


Damaged Goods

by Seraph_Novak



Series: Destiel One-Shots [31]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Angst with a Happy Ending, Asexual Castiel (Supernatural), Breaking Up & Making Up, Coming Out, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Internalized Acephobia, M/M, One Shot, POV Castiel, Sappy Dean, Self-Hatred, Supportive Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-12
Updated: 2018-01-12
Packaged: 2019-03-03 21:39:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13350057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seraph_Novak/pseuds/Seraph_Novak
Summary: When Castiel finally comes to terms with his asexuality, he realizes that breaking up with his boyfriend, Dean, is the fairest thing for them both. Even if it's also thehardestthing he's ever going to have to do.





	Damaged Goods

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys! As someone who identifies as asexual, I've been wanting to write something like this for a while. I personally adore the ace!Cas head-canon, and the idea of Dean being utterly supportive just makes me super happy. Asexuality is a very complex - and _very_ underrepresented - sexuality, so I really hope I was able to explain things clearly in this fic, and do my fellow aces justice. 
> 
> I really hope you enjoy the story! And as always, all comments and kudos are very much appreciated. Thanks for reading ♥

He doesn't bring it up until the very last second, just as Dean is close to dozing off with his cheek pressed against Castiel's shoulder. They're lying in Dean's bed; it's a few minutes after midnight, and the room is aglow from the empty blue screen of the television on the opposite end of the room. Castiel is scared to get up and turn it off, knowing Dean will snap back into consciousness if he makes too much noise. He wants to put it off for a little while longer, just until he's ready to go through with things without retching.

So he waits.

It's getting close to 2 am when he finally pokes Dean awake. There's only so much stalling he can do, and Castiel refuses to drag this out for another day. He can't keep letting his resistance to say goodbye steal more time away from Dean, time he could be spending with someone willing to give him everything he needs.

"Hey," he whispers against Dean's temple. "Dean. Dean, wake up."

The younger man twitches his nose and licks his lips. Castiel traces the movement with sad eyes; he wishes beyond belief that things like that would turn him on, that his body would react in some kind of way to the gorgeous lump of tanned, freckled skin sprawled out beneath the covers next to him. But beyond wanting to wrap his arms around Dean and pepper his face with soft, loving kisses, Castiel has little to no interest in the other man's body. He fell in love with his boyish humour and kind heart, not the way he looks.

"What's going on?" Dean grumbles sleepily, blinking at the digital clock on the bedside table. When the early hour sinks in, he drops his head back against Castiel's arm with a groan. "Ugh, baby... It's two in the morning. Go back to sleep."

Castiel shakes his head, smiling fondly at Dean's grumpiness. Even when he's about to destroy everything he cares about with eight simple words, he can't help but adore the little quirks of the man nuzzling into his shoulder. He's never felt a love this intense before; it kills him that giving it up is the only way he and Dean can ever truly be happy. Even if it means they can't be happy together. 

"Open your eyes," he says softly, brushing his knuckles across Dean's cheek. His stomach is overcome with butterflies when Dean obliges with a huff, his moss green eyes fluttering open like something from a fairy tale movie. His breath catches involuntarily. "Hello there."

Dean snorts. "Hey."

"We need to talk."

"Too tired," Dean smacks his lips together, moving to roll onto his stomach. Castiel pulls him back with gentle insistence. "Don't wanna talk, Cas. Can't it wait til morning?"

"It _is_ morning."

"Shaddup."

"It's important, Dean."

And with that, Dean is fully awake. "What's wrong?" he asks, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he sits upright.

"Nothing's wrong," Castiel says. He drops his eyes to his lap when Dean turns on the bedside lamp, too guilty to look at him in the light. "I just think there's something we should probably discuss... Something I've been meaning to tell you for some time now."

"You're pregnant?" Dean asks with a grin.

Castiel chuckles, despite the churning in his gut. "If only it were that simple."

"Hey. I promise to make an honest woman outta you."

"Dean, please," Castiel closes his eyes. "This is serious."

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry." Dean threads his fingers through Castiel's, ducking his head to meet his shifting gaze. "I'll shut up, I promise."

Castiel squeezes his boyfriend's hand a little too tightly, his desperation to cling onto this relationship leeching into his touch. Dean doesn't even flinch though, just squeezes back and pulls him closer. Castiel falls against him like a magnet. He can't help it; he's just weak like that.

"You know I love you, right?" he mumbles into the crook of Dean's neck. "Ever since I saw you on campus all those years ago, long before you asked me to dinner. I've always loved you, Dean."

Dean huffs. "Yeah. We were both a couple of idiots. I should've asked you out straight away, skipped all the bullshit."

"I'm glad we waited. It meant we got to be friends first."

"I'm still your friend, Cas."

"You're my best friend," he murmurs. "Honestly, Dean, you are. You're my best _everything_."

"Shucks, baby. What's gotten into you?"

"Nothing," he says instinctively, then corrects himself with a sigh. "Actually, no. That's a lie. There is something. It's, it's about us, Dean. Well, more about me, but it affects us... It's difficult to explain."

"Take a breath, Cas."

"I'm sorry."

Dean rolls his eyes. "You've gotta stop saying you're sorry all the damn time. You ain't done anything wrong."

"I'm about to."

"Okay, now you're starting to scare me."

"No, Dean. This is a good thing. It may not seem like it at first, but it will be. In time."

"Right," Dean narrows his eyes. "Why don't I like the sound of that?"

Castiel shrugs, his mouth dipping sadly as Dean's hands begin to shake. "I think you're scared of change," he says in a whisper, terrified of shattering the stillness that's fallen over them. He wants it to happen coldly, without too much feeling. The thought of Dean screaming at him in retaliation is too much to bear. Perhaps it would be best if the whole situation was a little detached, to save them both from wasting their energy on an unhealthy break up. He doesn't want that kind of drama with Dean. Not his friend, Dean.

"You get so used to a certain way of life," he continues softly. "That when things start to change, you worry about the consequences. You start to miss the comfort and familiarity of the way things used to be. You start to miss the people you had to leave behind, in order to move forward."

Dean wets his dry lips, his thumb starting to twitch anxiously against Castiel's hand. "People? What people?"

"Just, people."

"Are we talking hypothetically right now, or -"

"Dean," Castiel cuts him off with another squeeze of his hand. He refuses to cry at the look of horror and confusion morphing Dean's face; he's never cried in front of the other man before, and doing so now would only make things more upsetting for them both.

"Cas," Dean chokes on the word, his eyes turning frantic. "Cas, baby... You gotta tell me what's going on right fucking now, 'cause I'm really starting to freak out."

"I know, I know. God, Dean, you don't deserve this."

"Then don't do it," Dean sniffs, suddenly moving onto his knees and taking both of Castiel's hands between his own. It almost looks like he's begging, and the sight makes Castiel want to vomit. "Don't say what I think you're about to say. Let's just go back to sleep, yeah? Let's forget about it. We can talk some other time."

"No, Dean. We can't."

"Well, I can't do _this_ ," Dean shakes his head and turns away. Castiel watches him slip off the edge of the bed and pad towards the bathroom, switching the TV off along the way. The slam of the bathroom door jolts right through him, making his teeth ache. It takes everything in him not to follow Dean inside and end things now. As much as it might hurt to drag this out, he knows Dean deserves some time and space to think. Knowing the younger man, he's probably blaming himself right now. If only he knew where the real blame is due, that Castiel and his broken body and mind are the real reasons why they can't be together.

At least the truth will soon be out.

"Dean," he calls out after a while, watching the shadow flitting back and forth beneath the door. "Dean, please... Come out so we can talk."

A few moments pass, and then the door creaks open. Cool light spills into the darkness of the room, illuminating Dean like a moody photograph. Castiel is momentarily struck by the other man's beauty. Pretty much anyone with half a brain would kill for someone like Dean, and yet Castiel is too messed up in the head to appreciate the fact that he already has him.

This is all his fault. He deserves all the pain and accusations heading his way.

"I think we should stop seeing each other," he says in one breath, cutting the thread before Dean gets a chance to convince him otherwise. Those eight, simple words are out in the open now, armed with the ability to bring Castiel's life to a screeching halt. There's only one way this can possibly end, and no amount of preparing himself for the inevitable is making it any easier to process.

Dean's breath punches out of him like a burst balloon, his hand reaching out to steady himself against the wall. "No, no, no... Please, God, no..."

"Dean," Castiel reaches out, but doesn't move from the bed. If he touches him now, he knows he'll never be able to let go. "Please don't be upset, Dean. This is for the best. Believe me, it is!"

"How the fuck is this for the best?!" Dean cries out, spit and tears flying across the room. Castiel has never seen him in such a state before; their relationship has always been full of joy and affection. He's never had to see this side of the man he loves, and he hates himself for being the one to cause Dean such pain.

"I'm not doing this to hurt you," he says, words gargled around the lump in his throat. "I'm doing this for your sake! You deserve to be with someone who can give you everything you need -"

"You _are_ everything I need!"

"No, Dean. You don't understand. There are certain things that I'm incapable of contributing to this relationship. At least not genuinely."

"What the hell are you talking about?" Dean screws his face together, his frustration starting to topple over completely. "We love each other, Cas! Don't you sit there and tell me that ain't real. Don't you fucking dare do that to me."

Castiel sighs. "Of course I love you, Dean. That is 100% genuine."

"Then why're you doing this, huh? What is this really about?"

Castiel sucks in a breath, holding it between pursed lips as Dean moves across the room and sits on the edge of the bed. He flinches away when Dean reaches out, trying to touch his hand. The flash of hurt across the other man's face is enough to wring a few tears from his tired eyes, prompting him to hide his face in his hands. When he finally finds the courage to look up again, Dean is staring at the bed in silence.

"Sex," he croaks out. "It's the sex, Dean. I can't do it anymore, I'm sorry."

Dean frowns deeply, cutting a crease between his brows. After a few moments of stunned silence, he shakes his head and splutters a laugh. "Hang on... What?"

"I know you're probably confused -"

"Did I hurt you or something? D-Did I put you off?"

"What? Of course not!"

"Are you not into guys anymore?"

"Dean, please -"

"Is it just me? Am I... I mean, don't you like it? With me? Am I not... good enough?"

Castiel grabs Dean's hands, despite every instinct telling him not to. "This has nothing to do with you specifically," he says. "Please, Dean. Trust me when I say that. You have done _nothing_ wrong."

"Then, then what... I'm so fucking confused, Cas."

"I don't blame you," he says, smiling sadly. His grip tightens on Dean's hands when the next words come out, the confession finally slipping free. "I'm asexual."

Dean blinks at him. "Huh?"

"Asexual," Castiel clarifies. He can't help but smile at the clueless look on Dean's face; it was what he was expecting, after all. "I didn't know what it meant either, not until Charlie explained it to me a few weeks ago."

"You've been talking to Charlie about this?"

"I was scared, Dean. And confused. I needed to talk to a friend."

"Why didn't you come to me first?"

"Because," Castiel shrugs helplessly. "How was I supposed to tell you that every time we were intimate, I wished I were somewhere else? How could I tell you something like that without making you feel somehow responsible? I couldn't bear to hurt you, Dean."

"Oh, yeah. 'cause _this_ is a real walk in the park, right?"

"I'm doing what's fair," he tries to insist. "Asexual, it's... It means I don't experience sexual attraction. I never have. Sex for me, it's like going through the motions. It does nothing for me, regardless of who I'm with. Do you really want to be with someone like that?"

Dean gawps at him. "D'you really think I care that much about getting off? Fuck, Cas. I love you for you. Not for your _dick_!"

Castiel chuckles, easily charmed by Dean's colourful way of speaking. It's one of the many things that made him fall in love with the younger man. Before meeting Dean, his entire life was a suffocating cycle of playing the perfect son and pleasing the right people. But Dean encouraged him to be himself unashamedly, to break free from the buttoned-up claustrophobia of his old life and seek out the things that really make him happy. And Dean has always been the thing that makes him happiest.

"You say that now, but I know you have your urges, Dean. It's only natural. I can't ask you to give up sex for me. I can't bear the thought of you resenting me for that."

"I'd never resent you for who you are, Cas!"

"You would," he says, closing his eyes against the desperate hope twisting his boyfriend's - _ex-boyfriend's?_ \- face. "You'd get bored eventually. You'd realise that I'm not worth it, not without all of... that."

"What the hell d'you take me for?" Dean reaches out, cupping Castiel's face with his hands. His thumb starts sweeping back and forth across his cheek, and Castiel instinctively leans into the touch. "I don't need all that stuff, Cas. Not when I've got you... And if worse comes to worst, I've always got my right hand to keep me company."

A watery laugh escapes his lips. "Why do you insist on making this so difficult, Dean?"

"I ain't letting you go without a fight."

"You're fighting for a sexless relationship. Think about that for a moment. I mean, you _love_ sex."

"Well, at the risk of saying the obvious, I love you more, you idiot," Dean says with a huff. "And, yeah. Sex is awesome. And with you, it's just... Fuck, it's incredible. But if I've gotta knock one outta the equation, the answer's pretty fucking obvious to me."

"Dean," Castiel sighs. "I... I don't know."

"Why not?"

"Because," he throws his hands in the air. "It would be awkward, knowing that you want something I can't give you. Our relationship would feel so cold compared to before."

Dean takes his hand, pressing a kiss against the inside of his palm. "Not possible," he says roughly. "If I can still do this - if I can still hold you, and tell you sappy shit, and make you laugh - then it'll still be the best damn relationship I've ever been in."

"I feel awful," Castiel admits in defeat. "I feel... _damaged_."

"Hey," Dean tilts his chin upwards, his eyes hard. "Never say that again, you hear me? You're a fucking godsend, Cas. You're perfect."

"Come on..."

"You don't believe me?"

"No one's perfect," Castiel says, brushing his nose against Dean's wrist. "But at least most people are able to make love to their partners without turning into a plank of wood. Metaphorically speaking, of course."

Dean wrinkles his nose at the odd image, then shakes his head. "Look, baby... It's only 'making love' if you actually love each other, right? And, I mean, you're _it_ for me, so I don't plan on loving anyone but you for a long ass time. So, yeah, maybe 'making love' is off the cards for now. But sex? Gee, Cas, who cares about meaningless sex? If I can't have it with _you_ , then what's the point? 'cause, you know, it's the love bit that makes it awesome. And I can love you without taking your dick up my ass every night. I mean, it feels really fucking good, but I can cope... And like I said, I've got my trusty hand to help me out." Dean runs his fingers through his hair, messing up the pillow-flattened tufts even further. "Am I making any fucking sense right now? I feel like I took a wrong turn somewhere."

Castiel laughs at the blush slowly spreading across Dean's face. He's so completely smitten with this man, even when he's a babbling mess. His determination to get through this conversation without any second guessing is quickly starting to dwindle.

"Do you really want to give this a go?" he asks.

Dean huffs an incredulous laugh, as if Castiel is being a complete idiot. He probably is. "Are you serious? I switched to brown bread for your sorry ass. Don't you know I'm in this for the long haul?"

"But, but... The sex -"

"We'll figure it out," Dean says offhandedly, dismissing the excuse with a shrug of his shoulder. "I mean, there's bound to be some stuff you still like, right? And even if there's not, we'll think of something." He scratches his chin, a look of horror dawning on his face. "We can still kiss, can't we?"

Castiel laughs. "Kissing you is one of my favourite things to do."

"Oh, really?"

"Mhm. It's a slight problem."

"Not in my book," Dean purrs, wrapping his arm around Castiel's waist and yanking him forward. They fall against the mattress, chests flush. "Is, is this okay?"

Castiel presses his palm against Dean's beating heart and smiles, albeit shyly. "Of course, Dean," he whispers. He drops his forehead to Dean's shoulder, breathing in the familiar scent of leather and gasoline. "But we need to talk more about this, about my boundaries. If we're going to make this work, Dean, we have to think it through entirely."

"I know."

"And if it reaches a point where you realise you can't handle things the way they are now, then just tell me up front. Don't try and force anything for my sake."

"It won't come to that," Dean touches his bottom lip with the pad of his thumb. For a moment, he just stares up at him, his legs wrapping around Castiel's thighs instinctively, and then he lets out a sigh. It flutters against Castiel's skin like the frantic flaps of a butterfly's wings. He looks nervous all of a sudden. "Can I ask you something?"

Castiel nods. "Of course, Dean."

"About us?"

"Okay."

"And you gotta be honest with me," he says, his throat rippling. "I never hurt you, did I? I mean, we've been together for over a year now, Cas. We've done it plenty-a times. But if you were never really into it, then surely you... I mean, you must've been -"

"I always felt safe," Castiel says, saving Dean from his own distress. "And loved. My disinterest in what we were doing doesn't change that."

"But every time I touched you, didn't that feel weird? Like, I was trying to force you into stuff?"

"You would never do that."

"Hell no," Dean looks livid at the mere thought of someone touching Castiel without permission. His anger fades to curiosity as another thought strikes him. "Wait a sec. How did you, you know... get hard and stuff? I mean, wouldn't it just, like, stay down?"

Castiel snorts. "Like an obedient dog?"

"Crap," Dean winces, his cheeks turning pink. "I'm asking too many questions, aren't I?"

"No, no, no," Castiel squeezes his hand and smiles. "I like that you want to know these things. I'm just wary of overwhelming you with too much information in one go. I know _I_ got a little light-headed when Charlie first explained things to me."

"I can't promise to get everything, but I'll damn well try to understand."

"I know you will, Dean."

"But if you don't wanna talk about it right now, that's okay."

"It's not a scary question," he shrugs. "My body simply reacts in the way it was designed to do. Physical stimulation arouses my senses like everybody else; the only difference is, I don't feel the urge to seek _out_ that kind of physical contact. My needs are better satisfied in different ways. Does that make any sense at all?"

Dean chews his bottom lip, clearly trying to figure it out. "I guess so. I mean, yeah, it makes sense. I think."

"I don't expect you to understand. At least not straight away."

"I'm trying, Cas."

"And that's all I can ask," he bends down to brush his lips against Dean's jawline, feeling the nerves beneath his skin leap at the touch. "All that matters is that you accept me."

"Cas, baby. That ain't ever gonna be a problem. I'm always gonna be on your side, you hear me?"

Castiel shudders, as if all the love and devotion he feels for this man is suddenly too much bear, rattling inside of him like a mini earthquake. He drops the softest of kisses against Dean's lips and sighs.

"I spent all week preparing myself for this conversation," he says, his words tinged with humour. "I thought I could do it without breaking. I was so ready for anything you might throw at me." He shakes his head and chuckles. "I guess I underestimated how infuriatingly stubborn you can be... Or maybe I just didn't expect you to put up much of a fight."

Dean leans back, allowing Castiel to fall between his open legs. He looks confused and angry all at once, and perhaps a little hurt as well. "Why would you think that?"

"I don't know," Castiel shrugs. "I just assumed that when I explained the problem to you, you'd run off screaming. I mean, I should have told you sooner. It wasn't fair to you to keep it a secret; you had a right to know."

Dean drags his eyes over Castiel's body, considering this for a moment. When he finally speaks, his gaze is incredibly soft, like a sunset rippled by water. "Nah," he whispers. "You didn't owe me anything, Cas. Hell, I didn't tell anyone I was bi for almost ten years after figuring it out. Why should this be any different?"

"Because, Dean... Not everyone is this accepting. If you didn't want to be with someone like me, I wouldn't blame you. But you should have had that choice from the very beginning."

"Bullshit," Dean sits up straight, pressing their chests together. His nose drags a soothing pattern against Castiel's cheek. "I don't care what any of those judgemental fuckers might think. You don't owe me, or the world, a damn thing, alright?"

"Dean -"

"No, Cas. You gotta hear me out right now. You gotta understand how fucking amazing you are."

Castiel leans their foreheads together, chuckling softly. "Amazing?"

"Damn straight. You're the greatest thing on the planet."

"What about Sam?"

Dean grins. "He'll get over it."

"I'm not so sure. You two are scarily co-dependent."

"Shut up, no we're not."

Castiel laughs, but the sound is quickly drowned out by another wave of paranoia. "Dean, are you really sure about this? Perhaps you should take some time to think."

"No amount of thinking is gonna change my mind, you know? You got me, Cas. Whether you like it or not."

Castiel swallows thickly. "I like it."

"Then it's settled," Dean says, palming the back of Castiel's neck as he brings him in for another kiss. "You and me. We're gonna figure this out together. No more second guessing, no more bullshit excuses... I ain't giving up on us, Cas. No fucking way."

"You love me."

"I love you."

"No matter what?"

Dean gives him a lopsided smile, pushing his fingers through the dark waves tickling his forehead. "No matter what."

Castiel inhales a shaky breath and nods his head. "Okay," he murmurs, a tentative smile slipping into place. "Okay, I believe you. This might actually work."

Dean laughs. "Don't sound so surprised."

"Well, you  _do_ love sex," Castiel points out with a chuckle. "You can understand my trepidation."

"I can handle it."

Castiel watches his boyfriend - yes, _boyfriend_ \- for a moment, smiling fondly at the other man's determination to suit Castiel's needs. He really would do anything for him. It's scary in a way, knowing that Dean loves him enough to sacrifice the physical side of their relationship. As much as he might try to deny it, Castiel knows he's going to miss sex. It would be weird for him not to. But Dean would never risk hurting Castiel's feelings by expressing his true disappointment; he's far too kind for his own good.

"You know," he says, pressing his lips to the sensitive spot behind Dean's ear. "I may have no interest in being on the receiving end of such activities, but pleasing you is actually quite enjoyable."

Dean squirms against him and gulps. "What, what d'you mean?"

"I mean... I still find pleasure in making you happy, Dean. In any way possible."

"C'mon, Cas," Dean says, laughing despite the growing heat in this eyes. "You don't have to do that."

"I want to."

"But, but you don't like -"

"This is different," Castiel whispers against his lips. "Asexuality is a broad spectrum; the boundaries differ from person to person. But I'm okay with this, Dean. I _like_ doing this... Making you fall apart, it gives me a rush. You don't have to return the favour."

Dean licks his lips, unconsciously bucking against Castiel's thigh. "Seriously, Cas. If you're just making this up for my sake -"

"I'm not," he says solemnly. "I decided to stop pretending a long time ago, and I'm certainly not pretending right now. Making you feel good is a luxury I'd quite like to hold onto, if I may."

Dean groans. "Jesus Christ, Cas... Why didn't you say this before?"

"I didn't think this would be enough."

"Holy fuck, it's enough. It really, _really_ is."

Castiel chuckles, trailing his fingers down Dean's stomach. "I'm glad. Now, would you like me to continue?"

Dean bites his bottom lip and sighs. Castiel can tell that he's warring with himself; he's straddling the fence of arousal, trying his best to quell the heat pooling in his stomach before he loses control completely. His expression softens when Castiel reaches out to stroke his cheek, the conflicting emotions on his face melting into something warm and tender. Whatever inner battle he was struggling with, he's apparently reached his decision.

"Nah," he says, leaning into Castiel's touch. "I'm good."

Castiel presses his lips together. "I'm not doing this because I think you expect it of me. I wouldn't lie to you like that. Not again."

"I know," Dean takes his hand and squeezes it. "But I kinda just wanna hold you for now. That cool?"

"A-Are you sure?"

"100%."

"And you're not... disappointed?"

"Why the hell would I be disappointed?" Dean pulls his brows together, genuinely confused. "I'm dating the best guy in the universe. All those sad suckers who think getting laid is better than _this_ , well... They're a bunch of idiots, aren't they?"

Castiel chuckles wetly, fisting his hands in the front of Dean's shirt. He presses their cheeks together and closes his eyes. Holding his boyfriend close is the greatest feeling in the world, and knowing that Dean shares that sentiment only makes it better. There are still a lot of issues for them to sort through - Castiel is well aware of this - but for the first time in months, he has hope. Hope that he and Dean can make this work, despite the constant shame and paranoia swirling in his gut. He might not be like most people, but Dean loves him regardless of that. And Dean's love is the only thing he needs to keep him going. 

"I love you," he whispers in the dark of the room.

Dean grins against his cheek. "Such a sap."

"Says you."

"I ain't no sap."

Castiel lifts an eyebrow in silent disagreement.

"Okay, okay," Dean chuckles, turning to spoon himself around Castiel's body. "You got me. Just don't go telling Sammy I'm a closet romantic… I'll never hear the end of it."

Castiel presses back against Dean's chest and smiles. "Your secret's safe with me."


End file.
